


Auld Lang Syne

by philophrosynae



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Romance, RusAme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28576656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philophrosynae/pseuds/philophrosynae
Summary: It had been one of those nights. But now, it was morning.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> For 2021, and all the hope that it brings.

It was, for once, Ivan who opened his eyes first. At least, that’s the impression he got when he forced one of his eyes open just wide enough to squint at the ceiling fan. It was daylight. That much was certain. The blackout curtains were doing their best but warm hints of light peaked out above the curtain rod. And it was probably January. It was already January when they had tumbled into bed. 

Ivan had undressed last night. They both had. That was easy to confirm. He had not brushed his teeth. That realization earned a frown and a grimace. Ivan groaned but made no move to rectify that situation. His head throbbed. But he did have vague recollections of Alfred frantically scrubbing his teeth with toothpaste that he had smeared on his finger around 3am. _Why?_ They were in--

Somewhere?

He opened his other eye, finally remembering that he had two of those things, and gingerly shifted his head to the right. Alfred’s legs? Oh. Ivan reached out and gently patted the other man’s butt. Alfred was draped across him, forming a cross with their bodies. Someone had ended up in bed incorrectly. Or both of them had. It was hard to tell from Ivan’s angle. It was also an unfamiliar bed. 

A hotel. That memory came back to Ivan, almost as slowly as the feeling in his legs. Alfred was heavy. They were at a party? In the hotel. A New Year’s Eve party. But they had separate rooms so someone was in the wrong bed. His thoughts drifted back to the toothpaste. Alfred was in the wrong bed and had stolen Ivan’s toothpaste, that’s why he had needed to use his finger to “brush” his teeth. At least that mystery was solved. 

Certain now that he was somewhere safe and calm, Ivan closed his heavy eyes. His left hand was still on Alfred’s butt, which was warm and familiar. Ivan decided that was a good place to leave it. His other hand was behind his own head, which was fine. His feet tingled with pins and needles, which was horrendous and definitely not fine, but Ivan was hungover and tired and couldn’t be bothered to care. At least his hands were fine.

“Good morning. Afternoon? New year,” Alfred mumbled into the bedding, just barely audible over the down and silks. 

It was a nice bed. Ivan didn’t open his eyes or mouth, but did squeeze his left hand in greeting. That earned a small laugh and an _ow my head_. Alfred was hungover too. _Good._ Misery loves company, and all that.

“Do you want breakfast?”

Alfred was the morning person.

“No,” Ivan managed.

“Lunch?”

“No.”

Alfred laughed and rolled away. Ivan didn’t like that. He opened his mouth to protest but closed it again once he felt Alfred settle against his side. His head rested warmly against Ivan’s chest. The ceiling fan spinning gently above them ruffled Alfred’s hair, enabling a now mildly amused Ivan to realize that he still smelled like peach schnapps. It had been one of those nights.

“I don’t think it’s dinner time yet,” Alfred said, and Ivan could hear the familiar smile in his voice. “So your choices are really just breakfast or lunch.”

“Brunch.”

“Ah, got me there. Now?”

“No.”

Because now, Alfred was naked and in his bed and smelling of peaches. That was more than fine.

So maybe they would just make it to dinner instead. 


End file.
